


Keeping Secrets

by xantissa



Series: Sins and Desires [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Incest, Kink, M/M, Multi, Porn, Spanking, Threesome, Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-01
Updated: 2012-06-01
Packaged: 2017-11-06 12:36:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/418992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xantissa/pseuds/xantissa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He pushes the door open a bit and looks inside. The sight makes his jaw drop. He’s not even watching the door, not noticing when they swing open. He can only stare at the scene in front of him. Totally transfixed. In equal parts disgusted and aroused</p>
            </blockquote>





	Keeping Secrets

He can hear the distinct sound even through the closed door. He can also hear Dean’s half choked whimper and then the quiet sob. He could mistake it for pleasure if not for the sharp _slap_ the leather made when hitting the skin.

He pushes the door open a bit and looks inside. The sight makes his jaw drop. He’s not even watching the door, not noticing when they swing open. He can only stare at the scene in front of him. Totally transfixed. In equal parts disgusted and aroused.

Inside, bent over the foot of their father’s bed is Dean. Naked. He’s holding onto the iron footboard with a white knuckled grip. His bent over position is showing off the nicely tanned back, curled so invitingly now. Below, Sam could see the hard, perfectly round ass and strong, muscled legs.

He saw his brother naked before. That wasn’t what got Sam to stare at him like this. It was the rising, red welts on his pale ass. Dad standing behind him. All muscle and tightly controlled power. He is dressed in faded jeans, heavy hiking boots and that black shirt that always made him look hotter than hell and larger than life.

Around his right fist, folded in two is what Sam recognizes as Dad’s favorite leather belt.

As Sam watches, Dad pulls his arm back and the belt swishes through the air before it hits Dean’s ass with a loud crack. His brother chokes back a scream and sobs quietly, biting his lip to stifle the cries.

Sam doesn’t understand. Dad never hit any of them with a belt. Sure, they got a slap or two on the ass, through the clothes, but never anything more.

Sam hates seeing his brother like that. Vulnerable, naked in a way he’s never seen him before. Hurting.

He wants to barge in, to yell at Dad, stop him. Not let him take another swing with that belt.

But he looks at Dean first. Looks for real and sees what he missed before. He sees the dark flush staining his cheeks, the cherry color slipping over his neck and down on his chest.

Sam knows this flush. It only appears when Dean is very, very turned on.

Sam’s eyes slide lower over the tense profile of Dean’s chest and when his brother shifts, arches back with another loud slap, Sam can see the blood heavy, leaking cock curling up towards Dean’s belly.

His brother is enjoying this.

Sam looks at his Dad, closer this time. He sees the hard set of his jaw he mistook for anger before. He sees the heavy, obviously controlled breathing and finally he can see the impressive bulge in his jeans. Dad is hard, turned on by what is happening.

And Sam is too.

His cock, quick to respond anyway at fifteen, is now rock hard and already starting to leak. There is something incredibly hot in the sight in front of him. Dean. Completely naked, helpless and Dad. Dressed. Wielding all the power over Dean.

He listens to the whish of the leather through the air and the sharp crack again. It makes his breath hitch. He sees the already raising welt it left on the prefect globes of Dean’s buttocks, can see the muscle there, quivering with pain and excitement. He wonders if the skin there is hot and tender? He looks at his father again and freezes.

John is staring at him. Surprise and unease written all over his face. But underneath it is lust. Hot and burning. Wild.

“Sam?” He asks. Surprised.

Yeah. Little Sammy was supposed to spend the night at a friend‘s house. Little Sammy wasn’t supposed to see this. Be a part of it.

It hurts. Stings like a fresh burn that they would plan this... scene while he wasn’t there. He feels left out, betrayed and scared a little. What if they didn’t want him any more? He was always the one to whine about the hunts, to bitch and yell that he wanted to go to one school for the whole semester. Maybe they got tired of him and were trying to push him away?

All this makes Sam turn his eyes away from his father. He could never read John. Not like Dean could. So he is afraid. Terrified of the things he might actually see there.

“Sam?” There’s concern in his Dad’s voice now. But Sam doesn’t know if it’s for him or maybe the scene he might cause.

He looks to Dean instead. Because his brother was always the center of the universe for him and he could always see right through him.

Dean is not looking at him. His gaze is locked in front of him and his lip is bitten. There’s tension in his body, every curve emanating shame and fear. And it hurts Sam.

Hurts to realize Dean is ashamed. Afraid, because he wants this and he thinks Sam would not understand.

Well, he can’t. He can’t understand the allure Dean sees in pain. He thinks they get banged up on hunts enough. But he’s not going to despise his brother for it. He always knew they were wired differently. He doesn’t know why Dean hasn’t gotten it yet. That he loves Dean. That he wants him. Just like he is. With his quirks and attitude and kinks. Sam accepts Dean unconditionally. Just like he knows Dean would accept him. The concern in Dad’s voice now makes sense though. Dean is open, vulnerable now. Exposed, being caught in this position. Should Sam say something bad or judgmental, it would cut Dean to the core. 

He gets that. 

And Dad too.

So Sam gives him a smile. A small one, a bit shaky. But honest.

This time he sees how John relaxes a bit.

“Come here.” John calls and Sam does. 

He stays still and quiet while John leans to his ear and whispers what he wants Sam to do.

Dean almost jumps out of his skin when he feels Sam slip on his knees between Dean and the bed.

He’s not waiting this time. He wraps his hand around the hot, hard penis and sucks the head between his lips. Dean opens his mouth to scream or to say something. Whatever it was is lost in the choked whimper as the belt lashes over his buttocks again.

Sam closes his hand more tightly over Dean’s cock as his brother thrusts forward trying to override the pain. Dad picks up on it and slaps harder, the belt flying in a rapid staccato on Dean’s ass and thighs. Each hit making him cry out and push into Sam’s mouth. Flooding it with the taste of precome and desperate need. 

It only takes a few moments and Dean is begging, crying to stop and don’t stop. His words incoherent, falling in a disordered tumble out of his lips. Dean’s whole body is tense, pulsing with need and pain. 

Sam reached for his balls and cups them while sucking his brother harder. He can hear the soft ‘thud’ of the belt falling to the floor. He can see Dad’s boots approaching and then Dean’s cry as John cups his flaming cheeks and squeezes.

Sam starts to bob his head faster, his tongue massaging the heavy shaft. One of Dad’s hands slides to Dean’s front, pinches a nipple, the short thick fingers skimming over the rippling stomach and then his hand encircles Dean’s spit slick cock. Sam just opens his mouth wider and on the next slide down takes a few fingers into his mouth too, licking on his father skin. He can taste sweat there, salt and leather he just used on Dean. It’s a heady combination. Dean is begging above him, but he still manages to catch Dad’s groan. John moves and after a moment there’s a faint “click”. Dean wails and Sam pulls back from his cock, now all spit wet, shiny and rigidly hard. 

Dad put a cock ring on Dean. Intrigued, Sam looks to the large mirror to the right of them. he can see John slowly tracing his hands over the flaming red cheeks, lightly scraping his blunt nails on the raised welts.

Dean shivers all over.

Sam watches Dad unzip his jeans and pull his cock out. It’s big and hard, always a little terrifying. The man is not going to undress beyond pulling his dick out and it’s all the more hot. Watching Dean, naked and exposed, get fucked by their completely dressed father. It just makes Sam’s heart stop a little. His eyes are drawn to his Dad’s cock. It’s heavy. The thickness of it making it look so much bigger. Blood swollen veins are surrounding the thick base jutting out from the patch of thick, dark curls. The head is almost purple and glistening with precome.

His father’s cock was always impressive, a little bit scary even. Watching it bob in front of Dad Sam can’t help himself but remember how it felt in him, stretching him to the point of pain, forcing inside so sweetly, possessing him. Loving him.

Saw watches, mesmerized as John pulls the lube out of his back pocket and pours a generous amount of it on his palm and then fisted himself. Sam watches, as the purple, wide head, not slick with lube appears and disappears in his Dad’s big fist.

Without being told to, Sam reached to Dean’s cheeks. The skin is fire hot and he can feel the individual welts left by the belt, the raised skin even hotter than the rest. It makes him shiver. He presses his palms a little firmer, wanting to really feel it. Dean mewls above him and moves his hips, his leaking cock slipping over Sam’s cheek, painting precome there. He takes that needy cock back into his mouth, aware that Dean won’t get any release until the cock ring is released.

He curls his fingers and then pulls Dean’s flaming, painful ass cheeks apart, letting their father clearly see Dean’s puckered, pink opening. Sam knows Dean liked to be taken with lube but without any preparation. He can’t understand yet, the allure it has for Dean, to be kept open and wanting like this. Maybe it’s the age difference, and maybe it’s just one of those things Sam will never really understand about his brother?

Dad doesn’t do anything for a longest time. Sam sucks at the painfully hard and swollen cock, keeps Dean’s ass cheeks apart and waits. Like his father.

Then the whimper comes.

Broken and needy. Dean begging them without words, just with his body, straining, pushing towards them. Towards anything. 

A surrender.

With a strange, half grunt, half groan Dad moves. Finally. He grips Dean’s hips. Hard, until his fingertips dig into the vulnerable, tender skin there.

He moves closer and Sam arches his head awkwardly, a little to the side, struggling to keep Dean in his mouth and wanting, desperately, to see Dad in the mirror. He manages to catch a peek at the thick, flushed erection nudging at Dean’s opening and then he sees Dad’s muscles contact. The sound comes at the same time as the sight. He can see Dad’s dick slowly breaching Dean, the turgid cock slowly disappearing between the flaming cheeks. Dean makes a mewling, broken sound. A string of “shit, God, fuck” leaving his mouth as Dad pushes in, slowly. Steadily. Relentlessly. Ruthlessly. Sliding in on only the lube and sheer force, forcing Dean to accept him. To take it all.

Dean is in pain, his panted breaths and whispered profanities a proof to it, but his cock is still hard and heavy in Sam’s mouth, and his hips try to valiantly thrust. John’s iron, bruising grip on his hips stops him, though. 

He’s still helpless. Even more than before. Naked, ass crimson from the belt, cock hard and bound with no hope of release and Dad’s huge, unforgiving cock stretching him painfully open. He is caught, whimpering, between Dad’s shaft and Sam’s mouth.

Some part of Sam, small yet and undeveloped, is secretly thrilled by this sight. There’s something inside him that finds this submission beyond hot.

His cock is so hard, smearing precome all over his underwear. Sam opens his pants one handedly, not really willing to take his hands away from the hot, burning bottom. He takes himself into a tight fist, listening to the litany of profanities leaving Dean’s mouth and starts to jerk himself off quickly. He needs to come. But he’s fifteen. He’ll be hard again soon enough.

Sam can’t resist the temptation to touch Dad. He stretches the fingers of his other hand. The one still on Dean’s ass, until his fingertips graze the silky, hot shaft pushing into Dean.

His own breath hitches and he fists himself faster, harder. He can feel where Dean’s opening is obscenely stretched around the cock invading him. Can feel the heat of the fluttering muscle, can feel the pulse just under Dean’s skin.

He pushes his finger there, just where they are connected and sinks further on Dean’s cock, letting the head hit the back of his throat. At the same time Dad decided to finish this slow entry and he slams all the way into Dean, his furred balls slapping over Sam’s fingers.

Dean screams, jerking, hips pushing in search of relief he just won’t find.

Sam comes, his world whitening out for a second, jaw going slack, mouth filled with the salty taste of his brother and fingers sticky with his own come. 

Dad lets loose then. He grips Dean’s hips even harder, making sure to mark him and fucks him with abandon.

Hard and fast.

Relentless.

Slamming in and out fast, without mercy. Pulling his cock almost completely out before slamming in again. Stretching Dean wide, fucking deep enough to make Dean scream and beg like a whore.

Sam thinks he never saw his brother look more beautiful.

Dad doesn’t last long. Which is a surprise. He usually likes to fuck them for hours, until they are sore and exhausted. Not this time however. He just slams deeply in and arches his back, the corded muscle standing out. He comes with a deep groan, buried to the hilt in his older son.

Sam can’t stop watching him. Watching the powerful tendons in his neck flex and tense, watching the way his throat worked.

Dad was so much darker than Dean, his body harder, more weathered. Where Dean was still soft and smooth, Dad was dark and rough.

Sam watched his buttocks tense and release in rhythm with the last powerful thrusts that buried his cock in Dean to the hilt. So deep, the dark, rough curls of his pubes pressed tightly to Dean’s crimson ass. 

Dean was still weeping hard. His cock angry red and swollen, the release denied him yet again.

“Please...” Dean was begging, voice hoarse and broken, body bathed in need and sweat.

Dad, still shivering lightly from the powerful orgasm, trailed his broad hands up Dean’s quivering back to the smooth, naked and vulnerable nape of his neck. He slid his hands around, tracing the pronounced jaw bone until his fingertips encountered the moist, parted lips. Sam watches, transfixed, as Dad pushes two fingers into that scorching, moist heat. Dean moans and sucks the salty digits in, making needy and hungry noises. Sam never saw anything more erotic.

Sam reaches down to his pants, fighting the need to beg for something, for anyone to touch him. He wraps his hand around his already hardening dick, wanting to bring himself off again, the sight of his father coming in Dean’s ass still burned deep into his retinas. But as soon as his hand closes over his needy cock one sharp command stops him in his tracks.

“Stop!” Sam freezes, looking up. His Dad is staring at him over Dean’s shoulder.

“Do you want to fuck him?” He asked seriously, his fingers still deep in Dean’s mouth, the pink, swollen lips stretched and wet over them.

“Do you want to take your brother?”

Sam nearly chokes on his tongue. He only manages to nod as he scrambles from between his brother’s legs.

He strips as fast as he can, his eyes glued to the naked form of his brother. God, how he wants it. How he wants to be inside him. When Dad presses the lube into his shaking hands he hesitates though. 

It’s Dean. The most important person in the world for him and he is silent. He stands there, bent over the headboard, hard and leaking precome, panting, flushed, with pretty, red welts staining his perfect ass cheeks and keeps silent. Neither consenting nor resisting.

“Dean” He asks, whimpers really. He wants, so desperately to bury himself in his brother. But it’s Dean. His older brother. The cool one. The one that always knows what to say or do. It feels strange, different to even think about fucking him. It was usually the other way around.

But Dean is desperate now. His cock is hard and weeping, purple with blood. The cock ring is unforgiving, doesn’t give him even a hope of release. He won’t come until Dad says so and Dad wants Sam to fuck him. It might well be hours before Dad lets Dean come. Somehow, Sam thinks it doesn’t bother Dean.

“Do it Sam! Just… please… let me come. Please...”

Dad is close again. Big and heavy. His chest sprinkled with wiry hair. Muscles benching under the skin slick with perspiration.

“Do it, Sam. He wants you to.”

Sam whimpers when he feels Dad leaning into him. One big, strong hand curls sweetly behind his head and pulls him into a slow, gentle kiss. Sam can’t resist this kiss, this odd gentleness so out of place here and now. He tilts his head back and submits to John in a way he never does outside the bedroom.

Dad catches one of his hands, slightly shaking and fumbling and pulls it where he wants it. When their joined hands touch the burning bottom of his older brother Sam shivers in answer. Dean moans quietly and arches into the touch.

“Feel him,” Dad is whispering. His voice is low, all promise and gravel. A rumbling echo of lust and desire. It’s wrong. So wrong. But it’s also so good and Sam can’t bring himself to care. Not right now. Not when he feels Dad pushing his fingers between Dean’s ass cheeks and when he sees his brother so wanton and desperate, spreading his legs to grant them more access. He knows the regret, the disgust and fear will come later. But not now.

Sam whimpers just like Dean when Dad pushes his two fingers and Sam’s two into Dean. It’s a stretch. Four digits pushing forcefully past the guardian ring but the channel is slick and Sam can feel their fingers slip inside with more ease than it should be possible. Dean makes a strange, half choked sound and shivers all over. Like in a fever. He feels hot inside, the silky, velvety walls are hot and probably very sensitive right now.

Then Dad is pulling out, his fingers pop free of the stretched channel and Sam’s quickly follows. He grips his cock, heart beating wildly in his chest. It’s going to happen now. He’s going to get into his brother. Fuck him, take him. Oh God. He feels like he is going to come from just the thought. But Dad is pushing him back, away from Dean and he makes a sound of protest, his eyes still focused solely on the aching, burning bottom of his brother.

“Wait.” There’s an order but also a reassurance of sort in Dad’s voice. So he does, naked, with one hand wrapped around his straining dick the other falling uselessly to his side.

Dad puts his big hands on Deans shoulders and pulls him back, making him stand straight.

“Dean, lay down on the bed. On your back.” He whispers, voice so hoarse it doesn’t even sound like him. “Hands above you head. Hold on to the headboard.”

Dean makes a sound of protest but it’s just a token one, because they all know Dean will obey Dad. He always does. Sam can’t stop staring at the scarlet ass and he thinks it’s going to hurt like hell, to lay down on it. But Dean does. Moving carefully, like an old man he sits on the edge of the bed. His lips open and a choked gasp escapes him. His face twists in an expression of pain, but when Sam looks lower he sees his cock jerking, straining. Dean is enjoying this. The pain. The way he is used by Dad and Sam. And watching him, so completely lost to need, the way he surrendered so completely makes Sam want to do it again and again. He wants to see that abandon, that pleasure on his brother‘s face all the time. Always.

Making small, hissing sounds Dean scoots to the middle of the bed and stretches his arms above his head and curling his fingers around the bars in the old, solid headboard.

The black line of leather closed so tightly over his cock is stark against his flushed skin, almost obscene. But it’s hot and Sam is crawling onto the bed not even waiting to hear what Dad has to say. Right now the only one that exists for him is Dean and this need to get inside him. To fuck him. 

He grips Dean’s ankles and raises both legs up, bending them at the knees. He can see now, the pink, burning backs of his thighs, can see the darker red marks where the belt struck harder. His cock jerks and spills a little precome. He is going to come embarrassingly quick. He knows it. He pulls one of Dean’s legs over his shoulder, the other, still bent, he presses to the side, making Dean open himself, show Sam what he wants, needs to see.

The small pucker is red now, swollen from the rough fuck Dad gave Dean. It’s glistening with lube and come still leaking out of Dean. Sam scoots closer, looking at Dean’s face. His eyes are so big and wet, pupils blown so hard he looks like he was drugged. His cheeks are flushed bright red and wet from the tears of want, need, frustration he shed before. His chest, so beautifully carved is heaving now, all smooth golden skin. Lower, Sam can see the bound, desperate member lying on Dean’s stomach, drooling precome over his skin. He reaches one hand and closes it around his brother. Dean screams and arches his back, his burning bottom pressing hard into the covers. He chokes and surges back, trying to lessen the pressure, the pain, but his cock only spurts some more of the clear fluid. 

It feels hot and heavy in Sam’s hand, as if it’s going to burst any minute, the skin way past being oversensitive. He thinks about jerking him off but then remembers the cock ring and decided it would be unnecessary cruelty.

The leg resting over his shoulder is quivering, the muscles pulsing and flexing with need and desire. His free hand is pushing the bent leg out, to the side, until the tendons in Dean’s thigh stand out. It must sting like hell, but Dean’s not complaining so Sam doesn’t stop.

He turns his head to the side, his lips brushing over the soft skin of the inside of Dean’s thigh. Sam presses a kiss to that vulnerable skin and thinks of the sounds Dean made when Dad lashed him with the heavy belt, of the desperate mewls that left his brother’s mouth. Not thinking too much, he opens his mouth wider and then bites down on the soft skin, hard enough to bruise. Dean screams, arching, hands fisting tightly around the bar, not letting go.

Dad marked Dean with the belt, Sam with teeth. He needed to leave his own mark on his brother. Staring down at the place he so desperately needs to be, Sam takes his cock in his hand and lines up. He pushes and sees as the head sinks in easily, the swollen, abused muscle accepting him effortlessly. He slides in, deeper and deeper in one long, slow thrust, listening to the pants Dean is making, to the barely controlled moans and ‘yeah’ and ‘please’. Dean begs so prettily.

His brother is so wet, so slick inside. Abundance of lube and come making it ridiculously easy to just slide inside and fuck him. It’s his Dad’s come and oh Jesus, but Sam is not going to last.

He sets into a fast, a little clumsy rhythm. He doesn’t jerk Dean off, but his stomach slides repeatedly over the desperate dick, still bound by the thin strip of black leather, delivering friction that is just a little too much for Dean. His brother is whimpering, arching under him, his muscles clenching and unclenching around Sam’s cock insider him and suddenly it’s too much. He comes, a strangled sound tearing its way out of his throat, filling his brother with hot come. He slumps over Dean, the leg on his shoulder slides down on the bed. Sam lays over Dean, feeling the hard and weeping shaft trapped between their bellies, his cock, now soft still inside Dean. He knows he should move, but not at this moment.

He’s drifting somewhere in the post coital haze, Deans pleas a distant soundtrack when he feels someone, Dad, beside him. One large hand rests on his naked back, fingers spread. Heavy. Dad shifts, almost lying over him, pressing him into Dean and whispers into his ear:

“I want both of you boys smelling of me, I want you aching with the memory of my cock, I want to see my come leak from you.” Dad’s is whispering darkly in his ear. Sam can feel the hair in his chest tickling his back. Can feel the slick, strong, thick fingers touch his ass, slid between his cheeks and push. One slides inside easily enough. Sam doesn’t know what to think. He just came. He’s sensitive and twitchy and relaxed. The fingers feels strange, but good. Not enough to hurt, too much to ignore.

He can feel Dean, squirming under him, so very desperate to come. His cock, all red and purple, hard and weeping for so long now is pushing into Sam’s belly. And Dean tries to thrust. To shift his hips up enough to get the desired friction. But it’s useless. He won’t come. Not until the cockring is gone.

Dad pushed a second thick finger inside and Sam hisses. It stings. Hurts a bit because Dad’s fingers are always so thick. So big in comparison to his own or Dean’s. He feels Dad spread his legs, rearrange him until he is kneeling awkwardly, knees as far away as possible while still trying to keep his soft cock inside Dean. He can feel his brother shifting and tensing on his soft organ. But it does him no good. It’s no use because Dad didn’t let Dean come yet.

“I love watching you take me.” John whispers, low and dark. “I love watching as you struggle to take me. How your perfect ass clenches and tenses, how that small, pale ring of muscle stretches to accommodate me.”

John is still talking and Sam can already feel the slick head of his cock at his entrance.

“I love the sounds you make. The small, broken whimpers and how you beg, wordlessly for more.” He talks and he pushes and Jesus, but it’s almost too much. He’s still too sensitive right now. But his entrance is already slick and Dad’s cock is slick. He pushes strongly. Relentlessly, and the organ breaches Sam, the head slowly entering. He cries out, the initial stretch dizzyingly painful. But Dad doesn’t stop. Only pushes more and more, forwards, pressing, forcing inch by fucking inch of his cock inside. Forcing Sam to take him. Like he knows Sam can.

It’s painful. The pain and pleasure mingle together until Sam is left breathless, gasping and weeping, his face on his brother’s smooth chest. Dad is pushing more, his cock hard, like a damn telephone pole stretching him to the point of pain, pressing so deep inside Sam can swear he can taste it in the back of his throat. It feels so damn big. So thick and heavy inside him. 

Finally, finally Dad is inside. Whole. His furry balls pressed tightly to his ass. He can feel his muscles fluttering around Dad’s cock. And he just rests there. Warm and heavy, so deep inside Sam can barely breathe around it, and waits. His dick presses at that special point inside him and it’s sending white hot sparks in front of his eyes. He’s hard again. Still buried in Dean. His brother is whimpering, crying now. He’s so desperate for release.

“Please...” He barely recognizes his voice. It’s low and husky and not like anything he remembers. “Please...”

He tries to thrust, to move somehow but Dad is almost lying on his back now, pressing him tightly into Dean, stilling them both with his weight. Controlling them.

“Please what, Sammy?” He murmurs gently, his tongue sliding over the shell of Sam’s ear. “What do you want?” His beard scratches at Sam’s skin, coarse and stiff. It makes him ache. It makes him desperate. He hates begging, he doesn’t do it often but now. With Dean squirming beneath and Dad inside him, he can’t refuse.

“Please Dad… fuck me... please...”

It’s enough, it’s all John needed as Sam feels his big strong hands close over his hips and then he moves. Jesus Christ, he moves. Out until he is completely free and in again. Out and in, making Sam shriek because it’s too much, too damn much.

He’s shaking and crying. He tries to move but can’t. Dad is holding his hips up at an uncomfortable angle, not a chance of getting any kind of purchase on the bed. Dad is pounding, slamming into him. Long, deep strokes that make Sam cry out and shudder and beg brokenly. The thick dick inside him scrapes over his prostate over and over and he is so desperate. His cock is hardening, lengthening rapidly in Dean. He can feel Dad’s fingers pressing bruises into his hips and can feel Dean’s desperate squirms, the way he tenses and relaxes his muscles around Sam’s growing cock in a desperate attempt to get any kind of stimulation. Sam’s whimpering, he’s so close. Just...

“Don’t Sammy.” Dad whispers hoarsely into his ear, one of those strong hands reaching around to where he is buried in Dean and thick fingers close around his cock, staving off his release even when John lets go completely and slams into Sam with force and need, pushing him forwards into Dean. He repeats the forceful thrusts once, twice and then he comes.

Sam can feel him shivering behind him, can feel the thick cock buried in him twitch and grow that little bit more. Can feel the hot come coating him inside. Dad is panting in his ear, his furry chest pressed tightly to Sam’s back, his hand still closed tightly around his cock. All he can do is wait and pant until Dad will move. Will remember about him and Dean.

“Sammy.” Dad whispers, almost gently, pressing a warm kiss to the nape of his neck, to the spot between his shoulder blades and then. Slowly. Carefully Dad retreats, pulling his softening dick out, slipping easily out on the abundance of come and lube.

“God boy. You did as you were told. I’m so proud of you.” Dad whispers hotly against his skin and Sam can feel one finger touch his swollen, abused asshole and rub the slickness oozing out of him into the over sensitive muscle. “Just like I wanted to see you. Needy. Wanting. Desperate with lust, used and stretched with my come leaking out of you.” Sam feels another shiver racing down his back. Dad rarely talks dirty in bed to them but Jesus when he does, Sam is in danger of spontaneously combusting.

“Both my boys, fucked and needy. Come on. Finish it now Sammy.” Dad encourages and finally lets go of Sam’s cock. He doesn’t need more encouragement. He pushes Dean’s legs even more apart. The muscles must be screaming at Dean by now but Sam can’t manage to bring himself to care. He is almost as desperate as Dean. As needy. He watches his brother’s muscles flex under the tanned skin as he struggles to hold on to the headboard, watches his chest arch off the bed as Sam slams into him. 

There’s no finesse now. Just this overpowering need to fuck, to bury himself as deep as possible in the tight, wet heat of his brother. He barely notices Dad reaching between them and finally releasing the cockring that held Dean’s orgasm off for so long.

Dean screams, his head falling back as his body convulses. His cock shoots rope after rope of come and Sam can feel the desperate way his muscles convulse, squeeze his own cock. But he just came a few minutes ago and it’s going to take some time. He watches Dean squirm and buck under him as he keeps his legs spread and just thrusts. In and in, as deep as possible. He listens to the choked screams and whimpers Dean makes. He keeps coming even after his balls are empty and there’s no more come to spill. His ass clenches and pulses and he writhers under him like its possessed, twitching and coming until it’s more pain than pleasure and he can’t stop thrusting. He knows it must be hurting Dean by now, being fucked for so long and so hard but he can’t stop. He just needs, just that little bit... And then Dad takes hold of his balls and tugs at them gently. It’s enough. With a hoarse scream Sam comes, deep in his brother, adding whatever was left in him to what was deposited in his brother’s overused passage before. 

He slumps brokenly over Dean and pants, trying to stop his head from swimming. Dean is passed out cold beneath him.  
Moving slowly, carefully like an old man, Sam slips sideways from his brother body, letting the leg he still kept bent fall. He drifts in a quiet, satisfied, post-coital haze, his arms still wrapped around his brother. A feeling of possessiveness enveloping him, satisfaction that it was him that gave Dean the release. A feeling of unease too, though. Unease that Dean turned to Dad for what he so obviously wanted. A sense of dread that he was never quite good enough, never what Dean or Dad wanted him to be. Always different, always a step to the side from the path his father and brother chose. 

There’s a feeling, very deep inside him, that this situation won’t last. That the precarious balance they achieved would crumble to dust one day.

He curls himself around Dean a little more, still amazed that they are of the same height and presses his lips to the lax, swollen, full ones of his brother. He lick’s them tasting sweat and slat, Dean. He knows he should move, they are already sticking together but he’s too tired, his limbs like lead. 

He presses his face into the crook of Dean’s neck, one eye still open and looking out at the room. He wonders why he hasn’t fell asleep yet.

After a few moments he hears a change in the room, the sound of the shower cutting off. He sees Dad coming out of the bathroom, only a towel around his hips. It hits him then, the duality of his feelings. It’s fucked up, because he’s jealous of the relationship, the understanding Dad and Dean share, afraid that they don’t really need him there. But that’s not the only thing he feels. As he watches Dad bring warm, wet washcloths towards the bed, something warm settled low in his stomach. He watches the stocky figure, the powerful muscle, the dark skin and the hair on his chest. Watches the powerfully muscled thighs move under the small tower and feels a thread of want wrap around him.

He wants his Dad. Desires him. Wants Dad to fuck him, jerk him off, suck him and kiss him. He is also jealous of him. And how fucked up is that?

He closes his eyes when Dad reached the bed and sits beside him, the warm cloth moving over his belly, between his thighs, over his ass.

He whimpers a little when Dad lightly pushed one cloth-wrapped finger at his hole, the rough cloth slipping just a millimeter inside. 

He falls asleep when Dad starts to clean Dean up. 

 

The end


End file.
